


She Who Is Brave Is Free

by UnderTheMoonlitDay



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Established Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Emma Swan, F/F, Swan-Mills Family, disney's brave, magic baby
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-08-23
Packaged: 2019-03-01 05:08:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13287648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnderTheMoonlitDay/pseuds/UnderTheMoonlitDay
Summary: This is currently a one-shot, but I may continue it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is currently a one-shot, but I may continue it.

“Come out,” Regina called, a soft smile on her face and a laugh in her voice as she circled  the table set up in the middle of the small glade. “Come on out! Where are you, you little rascal? I’m coming to get you!”

 

On her last words, she pounced under the table, fully expecting to find the dirty blonde tresses of the girl she was looking for to be there.

 

“Hmm!” She said, exaggerating like she was completely stumped. “Where did my little Gwenllian go? I’m going to gobble her up when I find her—oh!”

 

Regina turned around as a giggle was stifled from behind her, and a little blonde girl scurried behind a large wooden shield. The dark haired woman smiled and crept up on the shield, grabbing the girl as she tried to run. 

 

“Gotcha!” The woman exclaimed, eliciting an excited screech from the child as she begun tickling her. Both were laughing whole heartedly as the girl tried to squirm her way out of her mother’s arms when a second woman entered the clearing, followed shortly by lanky fourteen year old boy.

 

Unlike Regina, who was dressed in a leisurely, long-sleeved dress of a royal purple, the second woman was dressed as though she expected to be jumped any moment. She wore a boiled leather cuirass over a cotton shirt, with iron spaulders protecting her shoulders and keeping a large bearskin cloak attached to her back, vambraces on her wrists and a sword at her hip. She shook out her sweaty blonde hair and placed her helm and bow on the table before ruffling the boy’s hair and kneeling beside Regina to kiss her sweetly.

 

“Emma,” Regina sighed as her wife’s lips left her own. She glared purposefully at the bow on the table. “How many times do I have to tell you? No weapons on the table.”

 

Emma chuckled, placed one more kiss on Regina’s cheek and then put the bow on the ground beside the table. In the distraction, Gwenllian crawled out of Regina’s lap and made a bee-line for the weapon that was now within her reach.

 

“Can I shoot an arrow, Ma, please can I?” She asked, eagerness written plainly on her face as she tried to heft the bow upright, causing her small form to tremble and fall under the weight. She landed on her bottom with a small “oof!” Both her mothers watched on in amusement.

 

“Not with that,” Emma murmured, kneeling so she was on the same level as her smaller offspring. Gwenllian still had to tilt her head back to look into Emma’s green eyes, so similar to her own. Her blonde haired mother was a giant to her, not just because she was so tall, but because even at the young age of four, Gwenllian knew how her blonde mother, the warrior queen of the realm, was a legendary battle hero. Before she could feel any disappointment at not being able to shoot an arrow with her mother’s bow, Emma continued. “But why don’t you use one of your very own?”

 

Regina shot Emma a sharp look, but both her wife and her daughter were oblivious to it as Emma reached into the folds of her cloak and pulled out a beautiful, intricately carved bow perfectly suited to Gwenllian’s size. “Happy birthday, kidlet!”

 

They took the bow away from the camp that was set up in the glade, closer to the dark woods that surrounded them. Emma had set up a target close to the woods, and Henry, her bastard son, was just finishing drawing a chalk line on the earth when Gwen scampered over. He stood back from the line as Emma helped Gwen to string the arrow and walked her through how to shoot. Regina joined him, and noticed that the boy was dressed impeccably sharp in a studded leather jerkin and dark brown breeches. He smiled warmly at his adoptive mother and she smiled just as warmly back. While he may not have been biologically hers, Henry was responsible for Emma and Regina falling in love, and she loved him just as much as she loved Gwen.

 

“She’s just like her,” the brown haired boy murmured, watching with affection in his hazel eyes as his younger sister attempted to shoot the arrow. “You may have to watch out, Mom, or you may just have two warrior princesses on your hands!”

 

Regina tutted to cover up the sharp prick of alarm in her heart and mussed with Henry’s messy hair, trying to tame the unruly mop. “Don’t be ridiculous, Gwen is going to be a lady. It’s bad enough Emma’s training you to fight.”

 

Henry smiled faintly and ducked politely away from Regina’s worrying hands. “Good job, Gwen!” He called encouragingly to the little girl. “Pull it all the way back to your cheek, now. Take a deep breath, then loose!”

 

Gwenllian, with a serious scowl drawn onto her face, did as Henry said and pulled her hand all the way back to her cheek. At the last minute, however, the tension of the bow drew her directional hand skywards, and the arrow was loosed in a wide arc up and far off from the target.

 

“I missed it,” she said, her face crashing in disappointment.

 

“Go get it then, my little princess,” Regina purred, walking over to her daughter and stroking her hair before holding her hand out for the bow. Gwen dropped it into her mother’s hand before scampering into the woods to get her arrow. As soon as she was out of sight, Regina rounded on Emma.

 

“Really, Miss Swan, a _bow_? She is a _lady_!”

 

Emma rolled her eyes good naturally and goosed Regina, causing the brunette to squeak in a very unquietly manner and slap at Emma’s arm. The blonde woman let out a guffaw and smiled cheekily at her wife. “Gwen’s as much a lady as I am! And it’s _Queen Swan-Mills_ to you!”

 

Gwenllian trotted farther into the woods, deeply impressed that she made her arrow fly this far. She wasn’t sure how long she had been in the woods, but it had been a fair bit of time and she could no longer see the glade. Finally, she spied her arrow, lodged firmly in the gnarled turns of an old, mossy oak, and identifiable only by the blue-white fletching. As she pulled it free, she became aware of the thick silence that coated the ancient trees. Fear likes to live in the absence of noise, and so in this deep silence, Gwen found herself growing afraid. 

 

A small singing voice sprang up from the bushes nearby.

 

_Lavender’s blue, dilly, dilly,_

_Lavender’s green,_

_When I am king, dilly, dilly,_

_You shall be queen._

 

_Who told you so, dilly, dilly?_

_Who told you so?_

_T’was my own heart, dilly, dilly,_

_That told me so._

 

_Lavender’s green, dilly, dilly,_

_Lavender’s blue,_

_If you love me, dilly, dilly,_

_I will love you._

 

_I love to dance, dilly, dilly,_

_I love to sing,_

_When I am queen, dilly, dilly,_

_You’ll be my king._

 

_Who told me so, dilly, dilly?_

_Who told me so?_

_I told myself, dilly, dilly,_

_I told me so._

 

Gwenllian leapt back but watched in awe as a tiny human wearing a dress of leaves flew from a nearby bush, a set of dragonfly wings attached to her shoulders allowing her to fly. When the fairy saw Gwenllian watching, she smiled softly and motioned for the girl to follow. All while singing, the small humanoid led Gwen back to near enough to the glade so that she could hear her mother calling for her.

 

“Gwenllian! Come on, sweetheart, we’re going now!”

 

Gwenllian burst out of the trees, arrow held tight in her hand as she exclaimed, “I saw a fairy, Mama! I saw a fairy!”

 

Regina gasped. “A fairy?” Her eyes were bright as she scooped up Gwen. “Some people believe that a fairy can lead you to your fate.”

 

Emma snorted behind Regina. “Or an arrow.” She scoffed, not at her daughter, but at the idea of fairies. In all her years of fighting, she never saw anything that would make her believe in the wives tales of the peasants. She took the arrow from Gwenllian and gave it to Henry to put in the quiver. “Come on, let’s go before we see a dancing dragon—or a giant!”

 

As Emma turned towards the horses they’d come in on, Regina nuzzled Gwen close. “Your mother doesn’t believe in a lot of magic or magical creatures,” Regina explained. “The only time she ever did was when you were born.” 

 

“Well, she should believe! Because they’re real!” A shadow fell over the two fo them as they were talking, and Gwenllian, ever the curious one, glanced up to see what it was. She let out a blood-curdling scream that had Regina whipping around on a dime.

 

Emma turned at the sound and found a massive, jet-black bear reared up on it’s hind-legs over her family. It’s maw was open to lunge towards Regina, who clutched Gwenllian close to her chest but remained frozen in the beast’s shadow.

 

“Mordu!” Emma howled, already running for her wife and daughter while motioning to Henry for her bow. “Regina—run! Get on the horse and _run_!” 

 

The blonde threw a stone to distract the beast from the dark haired woman and the child in her arms, giving Regina the chance to dash to her horse. From over her mother’s shoulder, Gwenllian watched. She watched as her bastard brother and her mother charged the bear, how it didn’t fear them at all, even as an arrow was loosed into it’s back. She watched as Emma’s bow shattered when the bear swiped it’s paw at her, how on the same blow that shattered the bow, the beast swiped Henry and sent him flying into a rock and falling unconscious. She watched as her blonde mother drew her sword and charged. She watched the warrior queen, undefeated in battle, was knocked over easily by the beast. She watched as the bear dove towards her mother’s leg—which was kicking out towards it—with jaws wide. 

 

The horse turned a corner and Gwenllian could watch no more.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wowza sorry that took so long! I no longer will promise when my chapters will be up. My life is too hectic for me to promise anything. So whenever this updates, enjoy! :)

Ten Years Later…

 

Gwen scurried into the dining hall, her steps clattering on the stone floor to announce her arrival. Luckily, no one seemed to notice, besides Henry, who looked up at her with his dark hazel eyes and shook his head with a smile. Gwen grinned sheepishly back at him and crept up on the two younger wards of the Swan-Mills family, that Emma was keeping enraptured with a story.

 

“It was the biggest bear I’ve ever seen!” She was saying. Gwen rolled her eyes. _Not this one again_. The children were both around the same age, about five years younger than Gwenllian, and the children of her mothers’ allies. Ari, the older of the two, was staring vaguely off into the distance, his hand copying Emma’s exact movements that she had theatrically perfected, and was mouthing the words along with the blonde haired woman. He was Gwen and Henry’s uncle, Emma’s miracle brother. Like Emma, Ari had their father’s emerald green eyes and mischievous demeanour, but unlike her, he had their mother’s jet black hair and her spitfire attitude. Lucy, the daughter of a princess from another realm, remained transfixed, her big blue eyes wide as she watched the adult, who was using a drumstick as her sword as she acted out her dramatic tale. “I drew my sword, and—”

 

“CRACK!” Gwen bellowed, leaping into the space between Lucy and Ari’s chairs and startling the two. Ari let out a yelp as he fell on the ground and even Emma looked surprised as Gwen took over the dramatic story. “With one blow of his paw, her sword shattered, and then chomp! Ma’s leg was clean off! Down the monster’s throat it went.”

 

Emma huffed and banged her chicken leg against the table. “That’s my favorite part!”

 

Both the younger children burst into giggles while Henry smirked down at his plate. Gwenllian continued. “Mordu has never been seen since,” she said in a stage whisper, her eyes wide as she backed up until she was shoulder to shoulder with her blonde mother. “And is roaming in the wild waiting for his chance of revenge…” She crept around her mother’s chair and pounced on Henry with a shriek. Regina, from the other end of the table, looked up sharply at the noise before shaking her head and returning to her paperwork.

 

The story of how Emma had lost her leg to the demon bear Mordu spread through the kingdom like wildfire. If she wasn’t legendary for her battle skills before, she was now. They called her the Bear Queen, for since that fateful day, she had been on a quest to hunt down the damned creature which stole her leg from her. She didn’t let her missing foot slow her down, either. She had the wood worker of the castle craft her a peg for the absence of all that was below her left knee-cap and carried on as if nothing had happened.

 

Since her fifth birthday, Gwen had decided that a warrior’s life like her mother’s was what she wanted.She trained with Emma constantly, and became a better horseback rider than anyone—aside from Regina perhaps. But said mother had different plans. Every possible moment, Regina had Gwenllian training to become the next ruler of the kingdom. That involved tutors, dresses, etiquette, and Regina using a fine-toothed comb to criticizeGwen on every action she made. It made her relationship with her dark haired mother rocky at times.

 

The dirty blonde haired girl unslung her bow from her shoulder as she sat down, and placed it on the table beside her plate as she slouched into the seat.

 

“Gwenllian, a princess does not place her weapons on the table,” Regina said placidly without looking up from the scrolls laid out in front of her. Gwen rolled her eyes.

 

“Come on, Mom,” she sighed, making no move to grab her white, ash wood bow. “It’s just my bow.”

 

“A princess should not have weapons, in my opinion,” Regina replied, the vein on her forehead coming to life to reveal her annoyance. Once more, her daughter rolled her eyes and put the bow on the ground.

 

“Come on, Gina, leave her be,” Emma chuckled, grinning proudly at Gwen. “Princess or not, learning to fight is essential. And she is good at it, I will have you know.”

 

Sitting up straighter under Emma’s praise, Gwen smiled at her before turning back to Regina.

 

“You’ll never guess what I did today, Mom.”

 

“Hmm?” Regina lifted her eyebrow and inclined her chin towards her daughter, but her eyes did not leave the work.

 

“I climbed the Crone’s Tooth and drank from the Fire Falls.” Ari’s and Lucy’s jaws both dropped and even Henry perked up at that.

 

“They say only the ancient kings were brave enough to drink the fire,” he chuckled. “I’m impressed you have it in you, Firebird.”

 

Gwen giggled at the use of his nickname for her, and then turned back to Regina, wondering what her reaction was going to be.

 

“What did you do, dear?” She asked, making a face at the papers. Gwen huffed.

 

“Nothing,” she mumbled. Regina’s eyes flicked up and landed on Gwen’s plate of sweets.

 

“You must be hungry,” she commented drily. Gwen started to protest, but Regina shook her head exasperatedly. “You’ll make yourself sick! Emma, would you look at your daughter’s plate!”

 

Emma, who was just about to dig into the chicken on her plate, glanced up at Gwen’s plate and frowned before shrugging. “So what?” Before she could say anymore, two of Emma’s hunting dogs came running through the hall, barking and howling, and launched themselves at their owner.

 

Regina sighed and turned to Henry, who had barely touched his food and was keeping his head down.

 

“Henry this is the third time this week you haven’t touched your food! What’s wrong?”

 

The twenty four year old looked from his food to his adoptive mother and shrugged his shoulders. “I’m just not hungry, I guess.”

 

Gwen tossed him a tart from her plate and grinned at him as he caught it. She knew that he had been sneaking off around this hour to go talk to the pretty peasant stable girl down the hill—she had caught them with her horse Windigo a couple of times. Before Regina could scold the two of them for tossing food, the family servant showed up, a tray of letters balancing on her hand.

 

“Thank you, Alice,” Regina said with a charming smile before taking the letters. The woman named Alice bowed her head and retreated from the private dining chambers of the royal family. Ever curious, Gwen peered at the letters and frowned as she saw the wax seals on them. The orange fox in mid-pounce for House Locksley, the wickedly curved green hook for House Jones and the blood red spread winged dragon for House Dred. _The lords Robin, Killian and the lady Maleficent_ , Gwen thought to herself, at the same time that Regina muttered, “Their responses no doubt.”

 

From across the table, Emma almost went tumbling out of her chair as one of the dogs pulled on her wooden leg. She let out a hearty laugh and reached down to pet the wire coated dog with a smile.

 

“Emma?” Regina called from her end of the table, holding all three letters in her hand. Emma’s eyes darkened almost immediately. “They’ve all accepted.” Gwen watched her blonde mother sigh before lifting her iron cup to her lips, tipping it to her brunette wife before taking a long gulp of wine.

 

“Who has accepted what, Mom?”

 

“The lords and lady have suitors to compete for your hand and betrothal,” Regina replied, her eyes excited. She smiled at Gwen, and had the fifteen year old not been so outraged at what her mother just said, she may have noticed that it was her mother’s first actual smile in months.

 

“What?” The tawny haired girl exploded. She turned to her fairer mother, who was not making eye+contact with anyone. “Ma, how could you!”

 

The Warrior Queen shot her daughter a look before turning to her firstborn. “Henry, can you take Ari and Lucy out for target practice? This doesn’t concern them.”

 

The chestnut haired men dipped his head in assent. “Come on, you two! Last one there cleans the stalls for a week!” He squeezed Gwen’s shoulder in passing, and she looked at him balefully as he left the dining hall. The princess then turned her sharp green eyes onto her mothers.

 

“I don’t see why you’re getting so worked up, Gwenllian,” Regina said, rolling her eyes at the anger in her daughter’s eyes. “This is what you’ve been preparing for your whole life!” She walked over and placed a hand on Gwen’s shoulder in what probably was supposed to be a comforting way. Instead, Gwen only felt as if she were being trapped by her dark haired mother. She shrank away.

 

“No! This is what _you’ve_ been preparing me for. I won’t go through with this! You can’t make me!” Before Regina could get a word in edgewise, Gwen stood up and ran from the hall, her blonde hair flying out behind her.

 

“Gwen!” Regina called out, anger and exasperation colouring her voice. She went to stand, but saw Emma shake her head.

 

“Leave her, love,” the blonde haired queen murmured, getting up and kneeling with some difficulty beside Regina, taking her bronze skinned wife’s hands in her own. “Let her calm down a bit.”

 

Rolling her eyes, Regina bent and kissed Emma gently. “We both know that if we leave her to her own devices that she will escape.”

 

Emma laughed softly. “I think she gets that from you. I will go talk to her.”

 

Before the words were even out of her mouth, Regina was shaking her head. “No. She needs to hear this from me.”

 

The blonde haired queen sighed before nodding and standing up, her wooden foot skittering a bit as she straightened too fast. She held onto the table to hide her struggle, but Regina saw her knuckles turn white and felt her heart tighten at the sight. As much as Emma tried to hide whenever the amputated limb was bothering her, Regina could always see through her disguise. She cupped her wife’s face and placed another delicate kiss on each cheek and then on her soft lips. Emma smiled faintly and fiddled with the straps on her leather breastplate. “I’ll wait up for you,” she murmured, knowing how often her wife needed to vent her worries to her after having serious conversations with their wild, free-spirited daughter.

 

Regina nodded her head, her golden-brown eyes softening in relief and gratitude. Letting out a long sigh, she steeled her reserve and made her way to her daughter’s room.

 

Emma stood shortly after and stretched as much as the boiled leather cuirass protecting her chest, back and stomach would allow her. She made her way to her room, worry for her daughter coursing through her. She had been through the betrothal process with her parents, and she didn’t want Gwen to go through the same horseshit she had been through. She and Regina weren’t even friends when they got married, the only heirs to their parents’ feuding kingdoms, married in a way to end a war they didn’t start. Luckily, Gwen didn’t have to worry about ending a war; this marriage was just a way to secure a large vassal from a lord or lady with lots of land and armies—and even a dragon or two. Emma knew this wasn’t fair, but she also knew that this was how kingdoms were run. She could only hope that Gwen understood.

 

Sighing, she undid the clasps on her cuirass and slipped it over her head. Emma remembered hating the thing once upon a time, but now it felt familiar to her, shaped and molded to her form over the years. She even got the leather worker to carve in a swan in flight beside an apple tree, the sigil of her and Regina’s house, right in the centre of her chest. In battle, they called Emma the Fighting Swan, but everyone knew she fought for House Swan-Mills. The woman smiled and eased herself down onto the bed, kicking off her elegant wooden leg as she went, and taking off her shirt of mail that protected her arms. She relaxed in the bed in a cotton shirt and wool pants, free of leather and mail and iron for sleep. Closing her eyes, she reflected on her wedding day.

 

***

 

She didn’t want this. Oh _God_ , she didn’t want this. Her dark green eyes were mutinous as she glared at her parents. Her mother looked elegant as ever in a white dress with a bodice of white swan feathers, while her father stood proud in his royal red vest. Her mother was a walking embodiment of the House White colours; a white raven on a field of black, while her father, the Griffin of House Nolan, represented the gold eagle on a field of red and white with the intricacies on his vest, and his gleaming crown.

 

Queen Snow made eye contact with her daughter and smiled encouragingly, motioning with her hands for Emma to lift her head. The fourteen year old girl scowled at the woman before looking at her father, David, who stood beside her, the man who would give her off to a stranger. His green eyes, so much like her own, had some sympathy in them, but he only squeezed her hand. He did nothing to stop this wedding, and that was why she would not be taking his name with her into her unwilling marriage. Even at the young age of fourteen, she had the nickname Swan. The Swan of House White or the Swan of the Griffin. She was going to make a name for herself that didn’t have anything to do with her parents.

 

Her glare turned to her new mother in-law, Queen Cora of Hearts. Emma wasn’t sure how to get a read on the woman. She seemed calm and placid on the surface, her brown eyes giving nothing away as they stared blandly up at her, but underneath she could sense a cold malice radiating from her. Uneasily, she looked away.

 

A man of seventeen met her gaze and her scowl melted away. He was one of the stablehands, brown eyes and brown hair with dirty skin and a smile so charming that it was impossible for Emma to dislike him. Despite catching him trying to nick a ring off her finger. Neal gave a small smile to her and dipped his head. He was wearing his best today, a white cotton shirt without any dust or dirt patches on it and a leather jerkin with pale brown breeches. The common born man tried so hard to impress her, and for that, he had her heart, no matter how pretty her spouse may be.

 

A door opening to the right of Neal drew her eyes away from her love and she was left staring at her soon to be wife. Anger roused in her stomach as she realized her parents were marrying her off to another woman. She glared at the pair of them before staring at who she would be marrying. She was admittedly very good looking. It was just unfortunate they had to meet this way. She had dark hair, nearly black, with eyes like molten gold and skin of bronze. She wore a simple white dress like Emma’s, with white-gold earrings and a brilliant red ruby around her neck. And she was staring at Emma impassively. Emma’s scowl returned. She didn’t want this, despite the fact that her fiancée was absolutely gorgeous.

 

The blonde haired girl smoothed out her face as her father squeezed her hand gently. The man who was to wed Emma to this young, dark haired beauty smiled at them, as though this was a happy occasion. He was a priest from her father’s court, one she had grown up with. He knew how unhappy the fourteen year old was with the marriage, but again, he did nothing to stop it.

 

“You may be seated,” he told the gathered crowd, a host of her parents’ allies or close friends who had come to witness the end of a war. Emma drowned the priest out as he droned on and on about honour and duty and responsibility. She had read his entire script over the night before, and never did it mention anything about love in there. She jumped back into the present when a new hand touched hers, one that was cold with slender fingers. Her eyes landed on her bride, who was looking confused. Someone had asked her something.

 

“Erm... Come again?” The young girl asked of the priest, while a few people chuckled in the audience.A slightly murderous look from Queen Snow silenced the chuckles, and the priest smiled gently.

 

“I asked you which name you would take with you into marriage, your highness.” He dipped his head respectfully.

 

“Swan,” Emma called out strongly. There were some gasps and some glances being thrown around, but no one dare question her. The Swan of House Nolan would now only be the Swan. “My name will be from this day forward, Emma Swan of House Swan, first of my name.”

 

The priest dipped his head and motioned Regina forward. She had been staring at Emma the entire time. The darker haired girl faced the priest confidently. “My name will remain as it is, Regina Mills of House Mills, first of my name.”

 

Emma saw Snow exchange an alarmed look with a chestnut haired woman beside her. This wouldn’t be good. She could see the thought running through her mother’s head. Two very independent women being forced to marry in order to save their ridiculous parents’ reputation.

 

“Very well then. Emma of House Swan and Regina of House Mills, I pronounce you wife and wife.” A squire of Emma’s father approached the elevated platform where Regina and Emma stood. The boy was maybe twelve, but presented King David with a red silk ribbon. David looked at Emma warmly before smiling slightly at Regina. He let go of Emma’s hands and turned his reluctant daughter so she was facing her new wife. Regina seemed to be resigned, her dark eyes hiding all her emotions as she looked at, no _through_ , Emma. The blonde was surprised; it was as if Regina had done this before. The darker haired bride held out her hand, which David placed Emma’s hand in. She glowered at her father before he tied their hands together with the red ribbon.

 

“With this ribbon, the bond between these two individuals shall not be broken,” the priest announced. He was holding a wine goblet in his hand. Only water was in it, water from the sacred springs that flowed beneath the church, icy and clear. “With this water, this marriage is sanctified in front of the gods, so that these two may welcome good fortune into their lives.” As the water was poured onto their joined hands, Emma looked up at Regina. A hint of emotion was revealed as the brown haired woman rolled her eyes. She smiled at her, thinking, perhaps this won’t be so bad. Regina only stared back, an emotionless statue once more.

 

“And with this kiss, the war between these two Houses shall be over.” Emma started in surprise and stared at her father’s priest in surprise. _This wasn’t in the script!_ Her hesitation lasted so long that whispers circulated the hall, and a light blush painted her mother’s face. She glanced back at Regina and found her staring openly at Cora Mills. The other woman was not glaring, but there was rage in her eyes, a rage directed at her daughter. Emma could almost hear her eyes yelling at Regina, _Do what you’re told_. Understanding dawned in Emma’s mind. Regina didn’t want this either. Slightly nervous, she squeezed Regina’s hand, the one that was connected to her via a ribbon. Surprise coloured those golden brown eyes as they darted back to Emma’s face, quick as an arrow.

 

“I won’t kiss you if it’s not what you want,” Emma murmured, only loud enough for Regina to hear. Regina’s eyes cleared for a moment. Then, she sighed and looked down.

 

“We must,” she said, her low voice velvet soft and beautiful, even if there was a cold chill to it. “For the sake of our families.” Her eyes darted up the blonde’s face and she whispered, “Close your eyes.”

 

Emma nodded and closed her eyes. The feeling of soft lips on hers surprised her, but she leaned into them and returned the kiss. It wasn’t unpleasant, in fact she liked kissing those lips more than the rough lips of Neal. Thinking of the man, she broke the kiss and ducked her head. She could feel the stablehand glowering at her from his corner but she couldn’t go to him. Despite the night they shared together before, where Emma gave him all of her and he returned the favour, she could not go with him.

 

“The Houses have been united and the war is over!” The priest announced. David turned the young brides to face the crowd, which was now cheering, and held their bound hands up high. Emma glowered at all of them, but when she glanced over at her bride, she found her with a stony stillness to her face. Emma’s eyes met Neal’s and she found he had a matching glare, not directed at her, but at Regina. The young girl’s heart squeezed painfully as the man turned and disappeared from the hall, the slamming of the door hardly heard over the sound of cheering from the crowd. The only person not cheering was Regina’s mother, Cora of Hearts. The older woman fixed Emma with a fierce glare that had the fourteen year old feel wary.

 

Before she could do anything however, Emma’s father led the brides away from the alter towards the door. Their married life was waiting.

**Author's Note:**

> 20 kudos and maybe some feedback for the next chapter? :)


End file.
